The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1) - Nicole Edwards Page 0,43

I’ve desperately wanted to do for years now, but there’s a glint in her eyes that has me holding back. Based on that look, a kiss will likely get me a knee to the balls. So I refrain.

Ellie grabs my shirt and pulls me down to her, our noses practically touching. From an onlooker’s perspective—as well as my dick’s—it looks as though she is about to kiss the fuck out of me. My lungs take a brief hiatus, my breath backing up in my chest while my heart does some sort of bass drum solo. I swallow hard, wishing like fuck she would move a little closer. Just a bit. Just enough so—

“Do not grab my ass,” she hisses softly, a cool smile on her lips.

Sliding my hands around her, I cup her ass and squeeze. “You mean like this?”

“You’re gonna need ice therapy for your balls if you keep that up,” she whispers, still fake smiling.

“But it’s such a fantastic ass,” I reply, pulling her to me.

Fuck. This is probably not the best idea I’ve ever had because feeling her body against mine… Let’s just say that sleep will likely have to wait until I’ve spent some intimate time with my hand.

I feel a shiver race through her as my dick wages a war in my pants, desperate to get out, but based on the way her eyes narrow on my face, I could’ve very well imagined that.

And because I have a preference to keep my balls where they are and not lodged in my throat, I slide my hands to her hips, then up to her waist.

I want to kiss her so fucking badly. I want to suck her tongue into my mouth and…

The overhead lights come on, and I hear a few grunts and groans from the remaining customers.

“Night’s over,” Ellie says, still smiling.

She won this round tonight, I’ll give her that.

However, I offer up a smile of my own, one that reminds her that I’m nothing if not competitive.

11

Kingston

Friday, October 14th

Pacing the floor, I keep my attention riveted on the stick in my hand and nothing else.

“Good luck,” someone says as they pass by.

I nod but say nothing because I’m focusing internally.

Focus. Puck, patience. React. Focus. Puck, patience. React.

The lights in the arena dim, then snap off—sound effects added to make it more dramatic.

A throbbing bass reverberates from the speakers overhead. Slow, steady. I take a deep breath and work on keeping my heart rate in time with the music.

Focus. Puck, patience. React. Focus. Puck, patience. React.

Suddenly, the lights flash off, then back on.

Off.

On.

Off.

On.

Faster. Brighter.

A few whistles sound from the seats.

Focus. Puck, patience. React. Focus. Puck, patience. React.

Strobes kick in, and the Jumbotron lights up with the team’s logo, then the image shatters as music pulses. The light show syncs to the music, bathing the ice and the fans in white and teal. Directly in front of us, a giant LED skull slowly descends from the ceiling. Three officials emerge onto the ice, skating back and forth.

I can feel the energy as it starts to pulsate along with the music. Excitement buzzes as the team prepares to head out. The fans are ready. Faces start flashing across the giant screen; one of them will be mine. I’m oblivious to most of it because the only thing I’m thinking about is the net and my place in it.

Focus. Puck, patience. React. Focus. Puck, patience. React.

For a brief moment, I allow myself to think about Ellie. Knowing she’s in the stands tonight makes this game different. Although she’s rarely ever missed a home game, tonight I know she’ll be rooting for me, cheering me on. I need that right now. I need to know that she’s on my side. I’ve decided already that I’m going to win this one for her.

The music comes to a dramatic, screeching halt, the lights go off once more, and a deep, rumbling voice comes over the speakers: Okay, hockey fans. Let’s give it up for your Austin Arrows!

I fall in line as we move forward, heading down the rubber mats that lead to the rink. It’s not easy maneuvering in all this gear, but I’ve got years of practice. A spotlight shines directly on the ice in front of where we’re entering. The crowd’s excitement intensifies as I watch my teammates emerge and then take off. The second my blades hit the ice, I’m in the zone. The players scatter and I go right for the pipes. I vaguely hear the voices

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